


On the back of a Hurricane

by karrenia_rune



Category: Andromeda (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 00:25:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3188885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karrenia_rune/pseuds/karrenia_rune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of ficlets dedicated to the Captain of the Andromeda Ascendant</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Andromeda belongs to Fireworks Productions and Tribune Entertainment, it is not mine.

Dylan had set up the basketball games as much for nostalgia’s sake as he enjoyed the sport. The trouble was in finding someone interested in playing an occasional game of one-on-one. 

His former second-in-command, Gaheris Rhade had once proven both a quick study in the intricacies of the game and a good player, and sometimes Dylan did have to wonder if the other man had not simply played because he enjoyed the game but because it was a point of that legendary stubborn Nietzschean pride that made it impossible for the other man to back down from a challenge. Or perhaps Dylan had it all backward, that even though it was a human game, the other had agreed to play because Dylan wanted to.

Following shortly on the heels of that particular thought, Dylan wondered if Tyr Anasazi was of the same mindset. The last match that they had played that irrepressible smug grin never once left the other man’s face as he flawlessly executed a slam-dunk into the basket; it had been both a bit humbling to watch and a bit like watching a predator, stalking its prey. 

Dylan, of course, thought he was doing his best not to allow his expression reveal what he was thinking; beyond maybe an involuntary sallow that made his Adam’s apple quiver ever so slightly, a blush of mingled anger and embarrassment at being showed up at his own game; an twitch of his mouth; but he thought that he handled it fairly well.

Tyr, for his part, merely smiled, and tossed the now badly dented ball back to him, saying, only, “It is your move.


	2. Fragments of Your Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During a late night bout of insomnia Dylan contemplates his former first officer, Gaheris and the unsettling possiblity that there might be another Rhade somewhere out there as well.

Regarding Telemachus  
Author: Karen  
Fandom: Andromeda, general series  
Prompt #63 Self-Conciscious  
Character: Dylan Hunt  
Rating: General  
Summary: Dylan contemplates the stranger known as Telemachus Rhade and comes to realize that the surname is more familiar than he might prefer it to be. Later on, he comes to the realization does bother him a tad. Contains spoilers for the 2nd season episode "Home Fires"

Disclaimer: Andromeda is the creation of Gene Roddenberry, Tribune Entertainment and Fireworks Productions and its related creators etc, they do not and will never belong to me and no money is made from this; used only for entertainment purposes. 

6/100

 

"Regarding Telemachus" by Karen

'Some men are stronger at the broken places, and some aren't. I am reminded of those old sayings at infrequent and damn inconvenient times, Dylan muttered to any attendant ghosts who chose to listen to his midnight musings.

There are some things that endure the test of time: love, loyalty, and dedication to a cause. It's not that this man feels any nostalgia for the good old days, despite his stated goal of bringing those good old days back.

Maybe the others that made up the crew of the Andromeda believed that Dylan Hunt carries his ghosts around like a soldier hiking with a backpack loaded down with everything except the kitchen sink. "I guess they do," Dylan griped, grunting from the effort of moving his still healing arm where a Magog grunt soldier had bitten upper forearm and broken through the skin.

Dylan rubbed the scab and tried to block out the memories. His attention was momentarily distracted by the glowing readout of the digital clock standing at attention on his nightstand table informing that it was time for the skeleton watch at 4:00 hours.

There are nights when the scars from his battles overlap themselves, there are times when he stands the night watch and he can swear that at least one ghost that haunts his dreams can be identified.

It's his old second in command, Gaheris Rhade. His best friend, his confidant, and finally his betrayer, on the eve that the original Commonwealth fell. 'Where are you now, old friend?" Dylan mused in the back of his mind. 'The funny thing about ghosts, they only manifest at night, and the harsh light of day dispels them back into the netherworld. I never believed in spectral manifestations of any kind. Gaheris had reasons behind his actions, and I doubt it could be chocked up to his simply being a Nietzschean, no matter how Dylan may have wanted to simplify the matter.

A little mocking voice in the back of his mind reminds him that he's been too blind to read the signs. That same voice tells him that Gaheris had dropped hints right up until the instant he had shown up on the command deck with a force lance in his hand, shot the pilot, and they had fought till the very end. If he had believed in ghosts, spooks or things that went bump in the night, Dylan speculated that in whatever afterlife Nietzcheans believed, Gaheris would probably be laughing at his old friend's nighttime hangups. "Well, more power to him." Dylan thought and got out of bed.

Dylan dragged his uniform of the back of a chair where he'd laid out and put it on. The simple act of buttoning up the pearl buttons over the black fabric helped drive off some of the more painful memories from the past.

The here and now was all that mattered and how he wished to shape the future should be his top priority.

Fully dressed in his High Guard uniform, Dylan picked up a floppy hard copy and perused the communiqué he had received earlier that evening.

Dylan read the text and thought about how much he had already achieved in his bid to restore the Commonwealth when a line leaped out of him. He reread several times before the gist finally registered in the foggy parts of his brain.

"Telemachus Rhade' direct descendant of Gaheris Rhade' It couldn't be was Dylan's first reaction. His second was to laugh it off, as someones' not very good attempt at a practical joke. But then he could count on the fingers of one hand the number of people who knew about Gaheris. So what did it all mean?

"One crisis at a time, "Dylan thought and tossed the floppy onto the floor in a slick wadded-up ball. "Priorities, remember, those darn priorities." 


	3. Bits and Pieces

If one could believe and wish hard enough for something to be true, then weighed the evidence both for and against that desire, would it make it so? It's something that has crossed the mind of Captain Dylan Hunt several times shortly after the arrival of the Andromeda Ascendant at one of the last remaining outposts of the former Commonwealth.

Dylan is not accustomed to being treated as some sort of an iconic figure of legend, but it seems that's exactly what the citizens of Terazed see him as and Dylan is not entirely comfortable with that regard. He figured that, for now, that he should just make the best of it. The Commonwealth that he knew and championed fell over three hundred years ago and as an added bonus; Dylan thought, "That's exactly how long these people have been waiting for me. That's way too uncanny to sheer coincidence?'

The population of the planet kept their existence a closely guarded secret until a man named Jamahl, as something of a consolation prize after a war provided the crew of the Andromeda with its slipstream coordinates. Apparently its location, way off the major slipstream routes, the planet was never discovered the galaxy's primary hostile forces, the Magog or the Nietzcheans.

 

As Dylan sat making polite conversation, eating fine food and drinking sweet wine he isn't entirely certain whether or not his hosts are on the level.  
Sure, the initial shock had now worn off, however, his host, guide, or whatever the hell he was, Telemachus Rhade, despite his uncanny resemblance to his former first officer, Gaheris Rhade, despite the former's protestations that he simply cannot be the genetic reincarnation of the latter. Gaheris Rhade was a man that Dylan had trusted with more than just his ship and his crew; he had extended his faith and his trust and had even asked Gaheris to stand up for him as his wedding to Sara Riley.

Gaheris had betrayed him during the Nietzschean uprising, that led to the final battle at Witch Head.

Witch Head. Dylan would much prefer had his thoughts not stayed there, for him, both personally and publicly, it is a sore point. Like an officer shot in the back, too numbed by pain to yet realize that he's been killed. It is like a phantom pain, one that did has not entirely gone away.

A few nights ago, alone in the late watches Dylan remembered that he had sat up looking at his collection of medals and had come to the realization that the uncanny resemblance bothered him more than just a tad.  
It is difficult to say if he's angry, but it does leave a bad taste in his mouth.

Dylan should have realized by now that some events from the past cannot be changed no matter how much he wishes that they could. He really should pay more attention to what's going on around him.  
It's important because it appears that the good citizens of Terazed are not entirely on a united front when comes to signing up for the new charter Commonwealth.

The rumors that he had heard and that Beka Valentine and the others had been keeping an eye out for seemed to indicate that a rebellious faction planned to use a hidden cache of missiles.

It was pretty much anyone's guess at this point where and at whom those missiles were going to be targeted at. A selfish thought crossed Dylan's mind. "Learn to roll with the punches, I guess."

"So, how are you liking your first visit to Terazed?" asked Telemachus, his manner easy and loose-limbed as he came over to where Dylan stood at the observation deck looking out and over the vistas of the city,

"It's something all right," replied Dylan, not really giving much thought to his response, wondering if he should be irritated at the interruption of his ruminations and at the same time if he should make an issue of it.  
Then, with a shrug, he decided it wasn't worth it.


	4. A Marriage of Convenience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the planet of Errani IV Dylan Hunt and his crew are guests of honor and Dylan has high hopes on getting yet another world to join his fledging New Commonwealth alliance. What he does not know is that the people of Errani IV have several conditions on their joining up.

itle: A Marriage of Convenience  
Fandom: Andromeda, general series  
Author: karrenia_rune  
Rating: General Audiences  
Prompt #15 marriage  
Table 3,  
Dislciamer: Andromeda belongs to Tribune Entertainment, Fireworks Productions etc. It is not mine

 

"A Marriage of Convenience" by karrenia

Dylan had been wined and dined by the heads of state of any number of planets, most of them who had had their own particular agendas for doing so. Some were genuinely eager to please, some did so grudgingly, some out of an ingrained imperative that regardless of who or what their guest was, it was as much as their own honor was worth to show honor to said guest. 

Never before, after the food and the wine had been whisked away by very efficient staff, had he ever been presented with a proposition such as the one Duke Anatole Marcus offered.  
The man was on the long and lean side with the stubble of a man who had either the fetish or the need to shave frequently, probably more than once a day, with a long jaw and dark brown and intense eyes. 

“Captain Hunt, I do hope that you’ve enjoyed yourself. Errani IV for has been honored b your presence. But, you strike me as a man who has only a low threshold for enduring pomp and circumstance. Am I right?”

“In so far as it goes,” Dylan replied, wondering what the other man was getting at, and much to his annoyance, that he been correct in his assessment that he was reaching his limit for pomp and circumstance. His second in command, Beka Valentine, wearing a dress that Trance Gemini had found and talked into her wearing; a beaded, black, sheath affair which looked quite fetching on her, had long since made her hasty excuses and departed the grand dining hall. 

Stealing a surreptitious glance over at her empty chair Dylan either wanted the Duke to get around to discussing business, namely whether or not it was in the best interests of the planet to become another signature in Dylan’s restored Commonwealth or not. Dylan wanted them to, in fact, but then he was biased, but biased or not’; he’d also been around long enough to know that a united front against enemies both from within and without was more often than not, the best course of action.

“Duke Marcus,” he prompted

“Yes, Yes,” the other man replied, as he twirled his empty wine glass between his hands and then set it down on the banquet table after a few moments consideration. “Rest assured, Captain Hunt, I, and the council of ministers have given your proposition due consideration that it deserves.

“And?” Dylan prompted.

“And, although you must understand this is not a decision that we can make lightly, and many voices have spoken before I could bring them around to a decision.” Anatole sighed. What you are doing, have been doing, Dylan... May I can you, Dylan?

When he received a wordless nod in confirmation he continued. “Is bold, ambitious, fool-hardy and visionary, should it succeed.

“It’s been working, well enough, “Dylan said, somewhat defensively.’

“No, no, I did not mean it like that. We are not rejecting membership outright if that’s what you believe, but we do have a counter-proposal to offer.” The man replied and shrugged. 

“Well, actually, if you knew anything about our world then you would know we have a long history of rival clans that go back centuries, and that honor is very important to us.”

“I understand,” Dylan replied. “And I can appreciate that this type of decision cannot, as you’ve said, be made lightly.”

“I appreciate that, so with that said, here is our counterproposal. You will be offered the hand of Duchess of Moravia, Sofiana DeMornay in marriage and with her, our pledge to you’re the New Commonwealth.”

“What?” Dylan exclaimed.

“A wife and a pledge,” Anatole repeated. 

There was nothing wrong with his hearing but he still could not believe what he had heard. In his mind’s eye images of his own dead wife, Sarah returned to him at that precise moment, bringing with them a flood of mixed emotions, love and sorrow, joy and grief, hitting with all the force of a sucker punch to the gut. He would never have her back and he firmly believed that he had made his peace with that fact. 

Nor had he ever imagined that he might find someone, fall in love, and marry again. To do so, he thought, early on after awakening three hundred years later in this brave new world would be a kind of a let-down or even a betrayal of Sarah’s memory. He had his ship, his mission and that should have been enough. The idea that he would be pledged to a complete stranger in order to gain the pledge of the Errani IV people; no, that could not be the way to go about it. In the back of his mind, he thought. “There’s got to be some other way.’

Apparently Duke Marconi was politely waiting for Dylan to process this information or he was simply oblivious to his internal turmoil, he simply sat and regarded his own reflection in the polished surface of the silver tea-set on the table.

“Well,” he prompted after an awkward interval had passed.

"Duke Marconi,” Dylan said, once more in control of his voice and his emotions. “Far be it for me to dishonor your people or the lady, but I, I simply.

“It’s a marriage of convenience. If you wish for her to remain here in our world while you go on about your mission, I am certain the lady in question and her clan will understand.”

Dylan heaved a deep sigh and wondering if he was acting more on his emotions than on sound logic at this precise moment replied. “No, no. I can’t commit to this. I am sorry. But, No.”

“Unfortunate, but I suppose I do understand and rest assured that although we do not have a pledge, and will not be able to celebrate a new alliance, you and your crew are welcome guests for as long as you choose to remain on Errani IV.”

“Most generous, of you, Duke Marconi.” I hope you are not too disappointed,” Dylan replied.

“I’d be lying if I said no,” the other man replied. “But I had warned the more fractious of the clans that more than likely that this would be your response. So it was not entirely unexpected.”

“If you wish to return to your stateroom, I will have the guards escort you,” he replied.

“Thank you.” Dylan said as he stood up and sketched a quick bow as he had learned was proper etiquette to a man of the Duke’s rank.

In return the Duke inclined his head ever so slightly and wished him a good evening. “Rest well.”


	5. Guilty until Proven Innocent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An episode tag for "A Rose in the Ashes." featuring Dylan Hunt.

Title: Guilty Until Proven Innocent  
Fandom: Andromeda, general series  
Author: karrenia  
Characters: Dylan Hunt POV  
Episode Tag: Season 1, #9 A Rose in the Ashes  
Rating: General Audiences  
Prompt:#45 plead

 

Disclaimer: Andromeda belongs to Tribune Entertainment and Fireworks Productions as created by Gene Roddenberry. It is not mine.

 

"Guilty until Proven Innocent" by karrenia 

He probably should have anticipated this, more than likely would even have been prepared for it, had he given it much thought. 

However, too much of his life right now revolve hinges on looking to building the future using the best of the elements from his past. 

And somehow or other his past had begun to creep up on, even as he thought about it, waiting in the anteroom of the Judicial Hall of Justice, trying not to even remotely give off the appearance of either been angry at his treatment thus far, or frustrated, he wondered if he could ever truly escape the past.

There’s a lot of past one tends to accumulate over the years and Dylan Hunt is a prime example of that, in fact, he has three hundred plus years of the past; both good and bad.  
So, it is only later when the Magistrate handed down a summary judgment and declared that he be sentenced to a penal colony Dylan had to think that maybe just maybe he could have handled things just a little bit better on his end. But at the time of his trial and sentencing, he was just too damned angry and frustrated to do so. 

At the time he’d been forced to reconsider more than a few of his precepts and several new ones that he had almost come to take for granted in the new world order. He had always figured himself to be found within himself just the right mix of idealism and pragmatism, and not allow the latter to overwhelm the latter. But the penal colony had its own laws and during his time there he and those who had asked for his help to overthrow the corrupt system had needed to call upon all of their old resources and a few new ones in order to get out alive. 

Looking back on it now Dylan figured that he hadn’t made any inroads as far as getting the powers that be on his side but then given his reception and subsequent hostility, maybe he’d be better off without them. Even as mulled this over in his mind a quote attributed to one of the philosophers of the original High Guard. 

“The truest measure of a society is how it treats its prisoners, its children, and its pets.”

Following almost directly on the heel of that particular thought another occurred to him. “I want to build something better, but I can’t really afford to get so blind-sided by the picture bigger picture that I lose sight of the small stuff.”


End file.
